Screen Violence contains cathartic moments, anthems in the dark, and they approach them with tact and enthusiasm.

Reality Testing, then, pushes into new territory so well that it erases the possibility of its existence as a one-time distraction, and its few major successes lead to expectations of a more unified version.

After a long life full of wild experiences and devotion to music, it should be no surprise that Plant has produced another album full of clarity and vitality.

The album itself is worthy of praise from any angle you choose to view it.

On An On creates intriguing, ethereal swatches of sounds, mixing retro-sounding harmonies, shimmering synth, and buzzy guitar.

Due to her diverse strengths, Jacklin’s songs differ greatly--but where for some that may result in an inconsistent tone, Jacklin strengthens the album by honoring its emotional core at all costs. Tracks jump from genre to genre without losing their hypnotic quality.

No matter how far into the ether they push, no matter what new form their music takes, there is a core Liars sound, and they've never sounded more aware of that or as ready to take on the challenge of reaching into that center.

The album could stand to be 10 minutes shorter, but who’s to complain about having too much of a good thing? Recorded pre-pandemic, the joy and enthusiasm of the reunion tour is captured here and the results are immensely entertaining. If you like thrash, then the Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny Demo is mandatory listening.

The sounds on Torture are pretty much identical to what you hear on every other record by Cannibal Corpse: If it ain't broke, they aren't fixing it.

Vol 3: To See More Light is his strongest and most cohesive collection in his career, aided in large part by the head-turning vocals of Justin Vernon, who appears on four of the 11 tracks on the album.

It's a fleshy album (in many senses), and every time Hadreas tip-toes away from maudlin piano-ballads and towards Xiu Xiu's experimental side of the spectrum, the album really lights up.

Gore could be the Deftones’ best album, but you can earnestly say that about any album they’ve ever created and make a strong argument. If anything, it’s the most modern, and a statement that style and substance are not mutually exclusive. Gore has both.

Rebirth's greatest reward is the proof it provides that the reggae master hasn't lost touch with the spirit, attitude, and sounds of the music that has long since made him a legend.

Thundercat releases typically detail grand worlds, but The Beyond/Where the Giants Roam relies too heavily on unspecific, cliched lyrical pain.

The second half of the album--a more compelling collection of singles--clarifies its darker themes while remaining upbeat.

If it rocks, it fits perfectly in a live setting, easy to place among their best-ofs. But when it slumps, it really crumbles.

LCD Soundsystem fans will eat this up no matter what, as the group's infectious dance-punk pulls at your most primordial instincts to get drunk and move and shake like no other group can. If you're like me, though, this live studio album will be enough to make you re-think the live concept revolving solely around Mr. Diamond. And that's something worth dancing to.

It's rewarding if given the occasional spin but tiresome if spun too often.

This is the real deal, ripped from notebook pages, the torn, frilly edges still hanging on.

The unfamiliar has never felt so inviting.

While Author & Punisher is assuredly best enjoyed in a live setting, YouTube videos of performances and Shone explaining his machines suffice in bringing you into his world where, trapped and alone, a crazed inventor is forced into submission. And in that self-imposed cage, Author & Punisher comes alive.

The record is a posse cut without pretense and the showpiece of a stylistic partnership that feels long overdue.

Anyone can recreate a sound, but Yuck succeeds where most bands fail by digging under the surface to capture the spirit and magic that made the music of their beloved idols possible.

He owns these songs of slackerhood completely, delivering a lean collection of 11 that concisely communicate the nature of the 20-something daydreamer--no more, no less.

Listening to Swans is an exhausting process to be sure, but it’s rewarding in its self-analysis; you might not leave entirely sure of yourself, but you’re sure as hell more in touch with the inner workings of the mind.

Le Bon maintains a careful balance with her scattered ideas, presenting an album rich in curious charm.

As a producer, this emerging talent thrives on dangerous, surprising turns. But as a singer, he’s not too shy to round out warm, whole moments. It’s a winning combination from a new voice.

It's perennially refreshing to hear the work of someone who so obviously does not care what critics think of him; Darnielle's music reliably gives you the world from his eyes.

There’s nothing in A Weird Exits that signals a massive change in the future of Thee Oh Sees, nor does it stand head and shoulders above their catalog. Instead it’s one of many great records they’ve produced and one that shows a refinement and strengthening in John Dwyer’s guitar and voice and one that will continue to fill mosh pits the world over.

Once again, Gorillaz’s ability to infuse their immaculately polished and idiosyncratic production with the wide-ranging talents of their guests is commendable, too, ensuring that their work remains charmingly singular by default. Sure, its lesser moments are expectedly artificial and monotonous — that, too, knowingly comes with the territory — but there’s more good than bad here, and most Gorillaz devotees will surely adore it.

Engravings is the sound of a man walking out into the coastline with his headphones on, the epic, Saxon past showing through the fog and playing with the Anglo present’s love of electronic music.

Challenging throughout and at times jarring and inscrutable, Crack-Up searches for a resolution just out of reach.

McMahon’s a constantly improving songwriter, and with Love, he’s created his most fully realized and purposeful batch of songs yet.

Instead of trying to recreate the heightened catharsis of Lost In The Dream, A Deeper Understanding suggests a viable path forward from that turning point, a journey blown out to widescreen proportions that breathes new life into a familiar sound.

A solid album throughout, Vicious is slickly produced by Nick Raskulinecz (Mastodon, Alice in Chains), who helped give the disc the big sound that these songs deserve.

The exploration and craft put into Blythe’s lyrics, along with the stunning musicianship of each member, allows for an exhilarating work of pure heavy metal. This album isn’t just an awesome release from Lamb of God, but a perfect record to unite metalheads as one.

The National had an incredible streak of great albums throughout the 2000s that propelled them to their current status as one of the biggest indie rock bands, and I Am Easy to Find is another solid addition to their catalog, even if it breaks that streak.

Rainbow, as a comprehensive work, feels much more organic and of this earth than anything by dollar-sign Ke$ha.

The album’s weaknesses aren’t unforgivable; they just too frequently sound limp and over-saturated in storied traditions. The verve and unpredictability that so frequently fueled her songs are lost and sorely missed.

There's nothing innovative here, per se, but what exactly did you want from the Dropkick Murphys? Oh, that's right: a party.

They might be the indie rock band everyone imitates in five years. You’re Better Than This is a yearning fulfilled.

It’s rare for an album with so many stunning moments to suddenly become so aggressively mediocre. Still, the highs of Sweetener outweigh the lows. But with such lofty highs, it’s hard to be content with the album that is and not think about what the album might have been.

Sweet Heart, Sweet Light covers a broad aural spectrum from surrealistic haze to outward pop and as such, is some of Jason Pierce's and Spiritualized's best material since Ladies and Gentlemen.

For an outfit who’s claimed groove-rock for two decades, it’s a relief to hear what they sound like with a beat you can dance to. Now let’s see them keep it going.

It’s pretty uniformly vintage-soul stuff--barreling horns, wafting backing vocals, single guitar chords on the upbeat--but it never sounds antiquated.

Nightmare Ending might be too big to work as a first-time introduction to Cooper’s music (either Talk Amongst the Trees or Lambent Material would do better), but it’s a loving summit for anyone who has been trailing him through the years.

While energized, Kveikur doesn’t break away from Sigur Rós’ safe spots.

CAPRISONGS might not be as immediately arresting as twigs’ previous work, but it shouldn’t have to be. ... Instead, it acts as her stepping stone towards recentering herself — and that journey alone should be applauded.

Twelve Nudes makes all the moves some of us have wanted from Furman: faster, brisker music, clearer politics, bigger riffs, and impossible-to-ignore shouting. It feels a couple highlights short of a punk classic, but it’s the follow-up that last year’s excellent Transangelic Exodus probably deserves.

The Bravest Man in the Universe is the sound of that perseverance in the form of an album, but it's also Womack at his darkest and most vulnerable.

What True Hallucinations does is reupholster a genre that's long shown its signs of wear and tear.

It has flashes of musical and lyrical depth that few can match. The hooks don't quite sink in as far as some of those on past records, and the diversity doesn't quite match either, but the depth of the intelligent, philosophic experience grows after each listen.

Replica catches Lopatin at the peak of his powers, realizing his esoteric vision with a newfound brazenness, clearly helped along by the success of his recent work with future-pop outfit Games/Ford & Lopatin.

The Wilderness proves that Explosions in the Sky aren’t stuck in any creative rut.

He [Boots Riley] validates his beliefs while simultaneously crafting an inspired rap-fusion record. In that respect, Sorry to Bother You is both a musical and argumentative success.

It swirls and it combusts, it annihilates and it soothes; best of all, it's the perfect balance between retro and modern-day sensibilities.

She took her time, creating a project that shows how much she absorbed between then and now; in fact, Modus Vivendi is the marrow she sucked out of her experience.

Without pretense or irony, Alabama Shakes carry on a vibrant rock ‘n’ roll tradition with psychedelic twists and turns that keep listeners curious about what’s next. Boys & Girls fired the warning shot three years ago. Sound & Color continues the momentum, one holy wail at a time.

You might want to laugh at points, because a good deal of it is very silly, but somewhere within the second half, you’ll become just a little invested. By the grand finale, you might even feel inspired.

Surrender is the album that Maggie Rogers needs right now. It’s one that shows how much she’s grown as an artist, how much her voice is capable of, and how she can exercise her ability to transcend in only a few notes.

The Ascension is one of Sufjan Stevens’ grandest, most ambitious works yet.

Void widens Anderson’s scope enough for her to write the songs her subject matter demands.

It hits and misses, but it’s a memorable record from a songwriter worthy of the attention.

In a way, it’s the most honest collection of songs Anderson’s ever written.

His new album and second with Chicago’s Bloodshot Records, The No-Hit Wonder, is brimming with vivid and infectious songwriting.

Have We Met, though perhaps less ambitious than Destroyer’s best work, is nevertheless their freshest and most enjoyable record in years.

Each song is a lively, clever meditation on layering and adding electric flavor, bit by bit, in both the buildups and comedowns, and the freakier, funkier ideas are what Terje should focus on.

Northtown’s rising star proves his worth on Ratchet through his genre fluidity.

An album that captures one of indie rock's longstanding heroes still at the top of his game.

A debut album can often feel like an announcement or an artist statement: something that says, This is me, and this is my music. Anjimile unites that self-consciousness with an exploratory intention.

Gojira have delivered a brisk, eminently listenable record that expands on their melodic sensibilities without abandoning their experimental tendencies, environmentalist policies, and emotional potency.

[Producer Jeff Tweedy's] his raw production lending itself to the Staples powerful presence.

American Head stands alongside The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots as one of the very best records The Flaming Lips have recorded and should be required listening for anyone who’s gone on their own quarantine-induced walk down memory lane in search of a way to survive this year.

This blending of past and present, delivered in the rawest way, makes her promise of Retribution that much more powerful.

Tragedy & Geometry is an emotional, slow-burning, hour-long journey that tests the limits of how captivating an exploration via ambient repetition can be.

The Kenny Dennis LP will reward those who are already familiar with Dennis’s backstory and Serengeti’s previous releases. Although this makes it somewhat exclusive, you can read the character’s biography before diving in.

John Talabot has created an intersection of sound that leaves enough for the listener to discover and decode on their own.

Bad Magic feels ancestral; you can feel it in your blood and in your bones. Even for those new to Motörhead, the album will have the power to recharge your love for all things rock ‘n’ roll.

For better and worse, surprises on Emmaar are scarce if there are any.

Though informed by the blaxploitation soundtracks of the ‘70s and the label-driven hip-hop soundtracks of the ‘90s, Black Panther: The Album is very much of its time: a well-produced and incredibly cohesive album with the loose swagger of a curated playlist.

As with its predecessors, Julia With Blue Jeans On forges new ground for the prolific artist, both musically and aesthetically.

Though there are near misses on Crystal Fairy (like the riffs that don’t quite reach heavy metal territory in “Secret Agent Rat” or the teeth-gritting introduction of “Under Trouble” that does more to incite annoyance than apprehension), the album succeeds far more than it falls short.

Despite the ridiculously high highs of this album, it fails to maintain a great pace throughout. It struggles back and forth between "good" and "great," whereas its foregoer grabbed "great" by the balls on the first track and never let go.

While the vast majority of the album serves its purpose as a re-education of sorts between Van Dither and the listener, these tracks ["Wrong," "Nail (Skit)," "Crumble," and "Toots"] drag with self-satisfying excess.

Future’s sophomore LP is a raw interpretation of his heartfelt musings filtered through an audio processor and laid bare at the intersection of trap rap and synth R&B. It’s a fascinating foray into alternative trap that ambitiously pushes the limits of self-expression and transmission.

While the album does make impressive strides, it doesn’t come without its shortcomings. Even at 39 minutes, the Synesthetica feels repetitive at times, small modifications made here and there to a tested formula.

With Kill For Love, it almost feels like the man's true thesis, as if he's strung together all his ideas, feelings, and sounds into one colossal being that acts less like an album and more like a highly organized archive.

Feist is back, and, for the first time, it feels like she can finally feel the warmth that everyone has felt in her presence this whole time.

The Ooz is not always a fun listen, both because of Marshall’s effectiveness in communicating his pain and his tendency to avoid editing as much as he probably should. Even with three or four excess tracks, the album is still an essential listen.

Perpetual Motion People is about change, action, and metamorphosis.

7 is a lush record that grabs you from the onset and contains tremendous depth beyond the surface. Not quite a full rebirth, the band feel free to indulge their experimental inclinations and loosen up, filling the record with a bright spark that makes it as exciting to listen to as it must have been to make.

Doing their best to make the most out of a situation and other people's preconceived notions and arbitrarily established boundaries, the boys of Smith Westerns made their Britpop magnum opus, for better or for worse. Here's to the next cut and color they choose.

Death Grips pride themselves on constantly shifting and progressing from one release to the next. That unfortunately sometimes outweighs cohesion, but Bottomless Pit is tighter, more daring, and catchier than that.

De Augustine is the perfect match for Sufjan’s gentle vocal style — the two have very similar voices, to the point that sometimes it’s almost hard to differentiate them, but the similarity works in the album’s favor and lends each duet a feeling of tenderness and proximity.

While wearing their influences on their sleeve, they deliver a lush and compact package of fleeting ballads to get lost in.

The result is an intimate, crystalline collection of almost entirely acoustic songs that hews as closely to American folk as it does Algerian protest songs.

She is an artist that defines edge, pulsing with an energy that no other musician could duplicate, delivering images and lines that no one else would have imagined.

Yes, it's a live album, but not "this is what he's been doing recently." If anything, this feels more like a vault release of a new band with familiar faces. Above all, you can feel the exuberance that comes from playing raw, unbridled live music, and there are few from that generation who excel at this better than Neil Young.